


Girls night out.

by bedb



Category: Captain America: Winter Soldier, Marvel Universe - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Thor's 'hammer', True Confessions, alien invasions, drunk chicks in a pub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-11
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-02-04 07:01:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1769965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bedb/pseuds/bedb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha is forced to go to a pub with 'the girls'. Booze and sex...well not at the pub, but what happens when drunk women start talking about their men.</p>
<p>humor</p>
            </blockquote>





	Girls night out.

**Author's Note:**

> I in no way own any rights to Marvel or Captain America or the Winter soldier. I live vicariously through Natasha

Nothing made Natasha Romanoff long for solitary confinement and brain wiping more than a night out with the girls. Pepper Potts thought it would be fun. Wine spritzers anyone? Oooo margaritas. Corner booth giggling. Who giggled over the age of twelve these days? Dr. Jane Foster, who ought to know better, took off her jacket and waved it over her head, yelling for the band to play Poker Face. Obviously not a song Jane could relate to. And of course her bestest friend forever Darcy Lewis was along. Yippee. Betsy Ross after two margaritas disappeared into the restroom and had to be rescued by Pepper. It appeared that Betsy lost all ability to find her way back to the table by herself after one spritzer much less two tequila drinks. Bobbi Morse was a silent drunk, thank goodness. 

“Confession time,” Jane spoke up with bright mischief in her eyes. 

Natasha was reading the latest issue of Guns and Ammo on her kindle and suspiciously raised her head. “I confess I don’t want to confess,” she said over their relentless merciless giggles.

“Oh it will be fun,” Jane assured her. 

“So what are we confessing?” Pepper asked with interest.

“I know,” Betsy interjected. “What’s the weirdest or funniest thing your lover does in bed.” Natasha rolled her eyes and went back to reading her kindle. If she was lucky there would be an alien invasion or Hydra attack before it got to her.

“Well you started it,” Pepper told Jane. “You first.”

Naturally EVERYONE wanted to know what Thor’s sexual kink was. Not. Jane conspiratorially leaned forward and said, “We’ve nick named his you know what the Hammer.”

Oh god, how original. Why won’t Nick Fury call? Surely some Iranian nuclear plant needs to be locked down. And now they’re screaming when they giggle. Kill me, please!

And Jane proceeded to tell them in all its ever so slightly drunk graphic glory of one sexual escapade in which the hammer exceeded all expectations. Truly of godly proportions on an Asgard longboat. He was so sweet and gentle and sensitive, so chivalrous. How lucky they were to learn this. Natasha made a note to herself to accidentally refer to Thor as ‘hammer’ in passing.

It was so sexy Natasha could barely contain her yawn when Pepper began her sordid story. Tony’s bedroom was covered in mirrors so he could always watch himself while he was having sex. Free porn. Natasha wondered if he made popcorn while he watched. But the strangest place, and the most romantic, was at the top of Stark Towers under a moonlit sky complete with a bucket of iced champagne and caviar.

Fish eggs. Highly over rated, not to mention they are driving that species of sturgeon into extinction. 

The rich scent of roses and sandalwood incense permeated everything, and Tony was so sweet and romantic and kind and gentle. Natasha sensed a theme here. Had James ever been sweet and romantic and gentle? Terrified…desperate…hungry to his very soul...but not so much sweet and romantic. 

Bobbi, AKA Mockingbird or ex-missus Hawkeye, oh yeah like Natasha was the reason why she and Clint broke up. So not going there! Bobbi waxed nostalgic about the time she and Clint made love at the top of a giant redwood tree on a simple platform with wolves singing to them.

Wolves? In Russia wolves meant someone was going to get eaten. Maybe American wolves were not as wild as the ones in Mother Russia. Or maybe Bobbi was just high. Aw they think she’s getting into the spirit of this nonsense because she’s smiling. Funny how the expression one has when imagining someone who pisses you off getting eaten by wolves is the same as the expression of one waxing nostalgic. 

Bobbi even sniffed back a tear and then smiled sweetly. And here it came….they referred to their intimate parts as gun and holster. Natasha had expected arrow and quiver, but then seeing as how arrows were long and THIN, it sort of made sense. No man wanted anyone to think they had a pencil dick…although she could testify that Clint was nicely proportioned. 

Oh stop looking at me! I didn’t steal your husband. 

Betsy had to be coaxed into speaking….Natasha refused to go out of turn. There was still hope a werewolf or vampire looking like Brad Pitt attacked the pub and mercifully carried her off. Although that chance was beginning to look rather slim.

Bruce likes to make love potions. Sexy tingly stuff you rub on your body or drink. Viagra maybe? He was so sweet and gentle and thoughtful, and hubba hubba. Natasha hated that word. That’s what Fred Flintstone said, or was that Yabba Dabba? Who the hell cared? 

And their most romantic moment? When they made love under the stars deep in the grand canyon. 

Hhhhmmmm scenery. No, no scenery. Pity they were able to climb out. Bruce no doubt turned green and carried her out on his shoulders like a demented giant with a bean stalk.

They had made a picnic basket, and after rescuing one of the grand canyon mules that Bruce accidentally scared off a cliff, they made a little camp within sight of the Colorado River on a sandbar. They made love to the songs of crickets, frogs and coyotes. So romantic. Sighs and little twitters.

“Your turn,” Darcy said with enthusiasm.

Natasha wondered if shooting the woman would cause much of a stir. “I don’t know how to answer this. James and I don’t do romantic and sentimental.”

Darcy grinned and said, “All right. What do you and James call your private parts?”

Natasha stared blankly at the woman for a moment and then said, “ Khuy and pizda.” Actually dick and cunt was what they called people who cut them off in traffic, but it worked here.

“Oooh Russian. So sexy,” Jane added with an idiotic shiver.

“So his kink?” Pepper asked lasciviously. What was wrong with these women? James was not fresh meat, but what the hell. She’d warn him later.

Setting the notebook down, her expression not conducive to a friendly conversation, she folded her hands in her lap and said, “I can make him cum just by playing with his nipples.” She didn’t think it necessary to explain that the wiring from the arm through his left pectoral probably had something to do with over stimulating his central nervous system. Of course the first time it happened he was also on the run and mentally and emotionally over stimulated. He had wanted to see her and knew they were looking for him. One last fuck before they did what they were going to do to him. What they did to him.

“Oh and he’s completely and totally silent,” she added with the devil popping its horny little head up. “We’ve actually had sex during one of Tony’s meetings and no one noticed. Of course it was one sided, but I enjoy playing with him in front of everyone and no one catching on.”

“Nahhhh,” Darcy replied in disbelief. 

“No!” Pepper interjected. “Impossible.”

“Possible. Deprive a man of human touch, and his body will become more heightened to contact when it occurs.” She said this in her best analytical voice, although the women at the table had visions of Winter Soldier sex at one of Tony’s briefings. That was just too mind blowing for them.

“Right under their noses,” Darcy complimented her. “Can you do it again?”

“Not now that I’ve told you,” Natasha replied and resumed her reading. She paused a moment and looked up. “Are we through?”

“What’s it like with the arm?” Jane asked her curiosity fueled by margaritas and her own imagination. “I mean…what’s it like?”  
Natasha had never realized that her and James’ refusal to stroll through the halls naked so to speak had made them a constant source of speculation from the other women. “There is no sensation in the arm. It moves based on the nerves in his chest, the same as an ordinary arm. The men who created the arm essentially spliced living tissue with wires.”

“Has he ever hurt you with it?” Darcy asked, her face rapt with fascination.

“Not in bed,” Natasha answered readily and thought she needed to speak to James the moment she got back to the towers. “Look, James has lived a life of hell. He’s silent because he can’t untrain himself to not be. He is sensitive in ways most men aren’t because most times he was treated as little more than an animal or worse a machine, and the human body will respond on its own if the right stimulation is applied.” Meeting Darcy’s eager eyes, she said, “James is the way he is because he was tortured. Is that enough?”

And that was the gist of it. James was the way he was because he had been tortured, deprived of human touch for years sometimes, awakened and sent on missions that sometimes meant he returned with his own blood on his body. And the one time he did reach out to a woman for kindness, her, he wound up in worse shape than before. She didn’t tell them how they broke into her room and shot him with tranquilizers and then let her watch as they wiped her memory from his brain and then froze him for future use.

She also didn’t tell them that sometimes, they would couple and stay joined without moving or speaking. And they could stay like that for hours, hard and wet, hearts beating in unison, matching breath for breath, quiet and still least ‘anyone’ hear them. How she would hold his head in the dark as the tension spilled over between them. People who had sex in Asgard long ships or at the top of Stark towers under the stars would never understand what people like James and she did to make human contact. About their beds in dark dank abandoned buildings on the cold ground with only their bodies to keep them warm.  
……………

It was after two AM when they returned to the Towers. Darcy, drunk and happy, smiled at Thor who was up waiting for his lady’s return, and asked, “Whazzup, Hammer?”

Thor, confusion on his face, looked from Jane to Darcy and back again. “Long story,” Jane said and hooked her delicate arm through his strong one. She led him away quickly.

Natasha was grateful that Darcy was the one who betrayed Jane to her lover. Spying James rising from the love seat and fearing the tongue of Jane’s drunk friend, Natasha walked briskly to his side, took his right arm in hers.

“What’s wrong?” he asked innocently as she dragged him back towards her room.

“Let’s just say some of our secrets aren’t secrets anymore,” she answered without elaborating.

Fortunately Thor got the brunt of the silliness. James was spared for whatever reasons, but the next time Tony had one of his long-winded demonstrations, James found it odd that the women were all staring at him. “What did you tell them?” he asked Natasha who was seated beside him on the love seat, her long white shawl covering both of them.

“I’m not sure,” she lied. “We’d all been drinking.” Then just for the hell of it, because the girls were watching, she slipped her hand through the opening at the side of his sleeveless sweatshirt and pinched his nipple. She could just hear Darcy moan softly when James languidly closed his eyes and leaned closer to Natasha.


End file.
